


Flourish

by mansikka



Series: On Waking [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Caring Castiel, Caring Dean, Emotional Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Making Up, Memory Loss, Starting Over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-26 06:30:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> <img/> </p>
</div>The time for talking has passed.<p>Living with only half the story has been part blissful, part bittersweet; now the consequences of avoiding total honesty has splintered cracks between Dean and Cas that are going to take a lot to fix. </p>
<p>When they can't start over since they're already half-way through, is there really going to be a way forward that works for them both?</p>
<hr/>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here we are at the end of it :)
> 
> Flounder left us on a bit of a cliffhanger of sorts, and now it's time for some answers... I hope you like how this one pans out, it was a lot of fun to write :)
> 
> Special thanks to treading_theriptide and Castiel_For_King for keeping me company throughout this one, your comments have made me grin stupidly :)
> 
> And thank you to anyone who's taken the time to read this :) big hugs at you all xx

_“I don’t regret falling,” Cas insisted again, gripping the edge of the table. “I told you. I regret not knowing how —” _

_“It’s Dean that needs to hear this, Cas.” Sam reminded him gently. “And… I know he’s a stubborn sonofabitch for… well. So many things, actually, but especially for stuff like this. You’ve just… you know him better than anyone, Cas. Whether you remember you do or not. You just… you need to get through to him is all,”_

_“You make it sound so simple,” Cas grumbled, and Sam shrugged, giving him a rueful smile._

_“It is simple,” he said, shrugging, “‘cos it’s not me that’s gotta do it,”_

_Cas rolled his eyes but nodded, knowing he’d need some time on his own to process all Sam had told him before he could face Dean honestly and try to fix things._

* * *

“You’ve gotta see this from Dean’s perspective,”

Cas looked up from where he was toying with the label of his bottle and over at Sam across the table, saying nothing.

Sam nodded as though sensing Cas’ reluctance to speak, took a long drink of his beer, and shifted in his seat, warming to his subject.

“When you woke up and didn't remember what you and him had, Cas… do you know what it did to him? Honestly?”

Cas sighed, looking out over at the bar they’d come to at his insistence at his last failed attempt to get Dean to talk to him. He needed someone to talk to himself because this was something he couldn’t face alone. The thought that after everything, after how far they’d come, that Dean would give up and push him away, surged a constant state of urgency through Cas as though he was vibrating.

“I cannot know, Sam. I can only imagine. I only know that were the situation reversed I would feel as though I had been ripped apart,”

“Exactly,” Sam agreed, dropping his shoulders as though the ache of the memory rested there. “When he realized you didn’t remember, I… I honestly can’t remember a time when he’s looked that broken. You know Dean. It… I can’t even begin to tell you how hard it was for him,”

“He was so careful with me,” Cas sighed, taking a sip of his beer and looking remorsefully back at Sam. “I knew something was… different. I just… he was so good to me, Sam,”

Sam smiled sympathetically at the sadness in Cas’ voice. “He wanted to make everything as easy as he could for you, you know?”

“He knew everything that I needed before I knew it myself. And I was… I behaved terribly towards him at times. My anger…” Cas’ voice trailed away in remorse; his wish for memories had been finally granted, only instead of a happier time with Dean all he was replaying was all of the awful things he had said to him.

“Cas, we get it, okay? It was a frustrating time for you,”

“I should not have taken out my frustration on either of you, Sam,” Cas said, with a firm shake of his head that told Sam he wasn’t getting through to him.

Sam shrugged easily, trying to show it didn’t matter now, that rehashing those things wasn’t going to do anything to change them. “What’s done is done. We’re good, Cas,”

“Dean is not ‘good’, Sam. And I do not know how to help. I do not know what to do here,”

“He just needs a bit of time,” Sam tried, seeing the tension in Cas growing and wishing there was some easier way of fixing all of this. He missed the way Dean and Cas were, even if he did spend a lot of that time griping and making fun of them. He missed the happiness on Dean’s face, the way that Cas looked just so contented, that strange feeling of _settled_ he got from just being around them when they were just _them_.

“The longer he has time, the longer he will have to convince himself that this is all his fault, Sam,” Cas disagreed, adamant that he was right, and huffed at Sam’s answering snort of laughter.

“Cas. Do you honestly think he doesn’t _already_ blame himself for this? He has been, since day one. Before then, even. Before you fell, when you guys talked about this,”

“Dean said that we argued,” Cas admitted, ripping the remainder of the beer label clear off and dropping the shredded remains to the table with a sigh.

“You did,” Sam agreed, “He kept on saying he wasn’t worth you sacrificing all you were for him. And you just argued right back that he was. It felt never-ending at times, Cas, you guys were… man, you were hard work,” Strange though, Sam thought to himself, that he missed even those difficult times as well.

“If there is one thing in this existence I would sacrifice myself, and all that I am for, Sam, it would be Dean. Repeatedly. Without question or any hesitation,”

Sam rewarded Cas with a warm smile, nodding in satisfaction at hearing his words. “I know, Cas. We just need to get _him_ to know it too.”

Though Cas felt comforted by Sam’s show of solidarity, he currently didn’t have it in him to share Sam’s confidence.

“If we loved each other as much as… as much as I have come to believe we did, Sam. I cannot understand how he would not already know that,”

Sam rolled his eyes and pushed himself back in the seat. “Cas. You and Dean _did_ love each other. You _do_. And you were really, really good together. I’d… I’ve never seen him as happy and content as he was with you. But you’ve gotta understand. Dean’s lack of self-worth is so… it’s so deep-rooted in him that… that he can’t trust that he deserves having anything good come his way and actually stick around,”

“He thinks that I regret my decision,” Cas drained the last of his beer and looked over at Sam’s almost-empty bottle hopefully. Sam nodded, getting the attention of a waiter and ordering them both another.

“And you don’t,” Sam replied, seeking reassurance for himself, though he didn’t really know why; for all of Cas’ confusion Sam thought the answer was pretty obvious.

Now it was Cas’ turn to shift in discomfort. A heavy frown creased his forehead as he searched for an honest answer in himself, one that he could make Sam understand without it taking away all he was trying to get across to him.

“My only regret is not remembering making the choice, Sam. Not the reason for falling, or the falling itself. Or being here. I regret waking up alone and not knowing _why_. I think… I think if I had known immediately that I had fallen _for_ Dean, perhaps it would have eased the burden of it a little. But I cannot know that. And there will never be a way to know if that would have made any difference to this,”

“You know, Cas,” Sam said, pausing as the waitress replaced their empty bottles. “Maybe if you don’t keep looking at it as falling for just Dean, it’ll make it a little easier for you—for you both,”

Immediately Cas held out his hands to show he didn’t understand.

“I mean,” Sam continued, taking a gulp of beer first, “It… it wasn’t just for Dean that you made the decision. It was for you as well. And—and me, in a way, I guess,” A tiny frown flitted across Sam’s face for a second but was gone before Cas could comment on it.

“You… for a long time, Cas, you’d been getting increasingly… I don’t know. Pissed off with the way things were in Heaven. You remember that much, right?”

“I do,” Cas agreed, studying Sam’s face intently, hand gripped around his bottle but not yet lifting it to drink. A fresh blast of memories hit him as though to reinforce Sam’s words and he grimaced to himself, pushing them away so he could concentrate on what Sam was trying to tell him.

“Well,” Sam pushed on, "In the time you guys were together, you talked about it a lot. How you felt so distant from all of… that. And Dean… Dean wouldn’t say it out loud at first, but… him and me, we were getting pretty tired of hunting too. Even though it’s all we’ve known for so long—all our lives, really,”

“I think that is the hardest part of this for me to understand, Sam. I… I cannot imagine Dean—or you—being able to live in a world where you didn’t hunt. Where you were aware of all that was possible yet did nothing. It does not sound possible to me,”

Sam’s smile was bittersweet then. “It’s true. It’s all true. We debated it back and forth so much, Cas, and… I think we’re both of us beyond ready for it. It’s… it’s not sustainable, living like this indefinitely. It just isn’t. We’re… if it weren’t for you constantly patching us up, me and him’d be limping and falling to pieces by now. Or worse, much worse,”

Cas took a few long swigs of his beer, before saying softly, “I am of no use to you in that way now, Sam.”

“Good job we want you around for something other than just helping us out then, huh, Cas?” Sam teased him. “You’re our family. I don’t want you ever to think you’re… I don’t know. No good to us without your powers, Cas. You’re… you _are,_ ”

“I kept thinking that I had done something wrong, Sam,” Cas told him softly then, the frown creasing deeply as he stared down at the table.

“Wrong?”

“Yes. I believed that the reason I had fallen was because I had done something wrong. That… that you… _Dean_ was keeping it from me. Protecting me when I had no right to be protected. I thought that… I thought you were going to ask me to leave the bunker again, and that you… that you both were going to attempt to ‘clean up my messes’ without telling me about them,”

“Cas,” Sam said, immediately reaching across the table to rest a reassuring hand on Cas’ forearm. “Cas, no. No way. I know Dean’s probably already told you but I promise you. You did nothing wrong at all. I…”

Sam’s stumbling halt to his words and the careful expression on his face made Cas’ heart thud.

“Sam?”

“I don’t know what to do here, Cas,” Sam told him then, shaking his head. “I… I mean I don’t know if… if we really should just let your memories come back—if they come back at all—in their own time. Or… or if Dean should be the one to tell you… to tell you how it happened,”

Cas gripped the edge of the table and held his breath. “I need to know, Sam. I need…. If I am to attempt to make things right with Dean, and be okay with this myself, I—I need to know this. Please, Sam,”

Sam studied him back for what felt to Cas like tortuously too long, then drained his bottle and slid it away from him, taking a long, low breath before beginning.

“Okay. Just… hear me out before you interrupt or anything, alright?”

Cas nodded eagerly, and braced himself for what he still was convinced would be something terrible.

“Okay. So. The three of us’d been talking about hunting and… you know. This life we lead, for a while. And you’ve gotta believe me when I tell you, Cas, you talking about falling was literally the only thing you and Dean ever disagreed on. You were like… sickeningly in tune with each other. Honestly. I’ve never… you two were gross at times. So much of the time. Not that I’m complaining,” Sam told him hastily, indicating with his hand that he really wasn’t.

Cas gave him a smile urging Sam to keep going.

“Anyway. We’d been talking about it. All three of us; it wasn’t like this was something only one of us was thinking about.”

Cas nodded again, sipping at his beer but never shifting his eyes from Sam’s.

“So. Dean and I were on a hunt, nothing major, just a ghost giving some small town some grief. And… there was an accident,”

Sam’s face clouded over then and Cas leaned forward, desperate for him to continue.

“Dean fell down this… I don’t know how to describe it. There was this big gap in the street that for some reason wasn’t covered over and it was late, we were tired, and he just… fell.”

“What happened?”

“He was hurt, real bad, Cas. Like… he broke a lot of bones and he’d puncture a lung, and was coughing up a load of blood. He was… it was bad, Cas. And if you… if you hadn’t got to us when you did,”

Sam’s voice became small at the memory and Cas breathed out hard, angry that he couldn’t remember the accident for himself, angrier still that it had happened in the first place.

“So,” Sam continued, oblivious to Cas’ mood, “We—you, got us home. We rested up, and then we had this… I don’t know. Real big talk about stuff. We agreed that… that it was time to stop. I know… I know you said you find that difficult to believe, Cas, but trust me. We are _tired_ of this. There’s only so much we can give and… I… we can’t do it anymore, Cas. It’s gotta stop somewhere,”

Cas nodded, thinking to himself as random puzzle pieces shifted into place for him and began to make sense. “That would explain why the first hunt you went on after I had fallen was so long after I woke,”

“Well,” Sam smiled, “Yeah. We’ve not exactly been making an effort to find cases; they’re kind of finding us at the minute. But you know, Cas. The main reason? Dean didn’t wanna leave you alone for a minute,”

Cas’ mouth curled up in an affectionate smile and he nodded, drumming his fingers on the table. “I suspected as much. The latter,”

Sam smiled back, and took another breath before continuing. “So. We had this huge discussion. We figured out a plan, a timescale, a way to… I don’t know. Pass stuff on to other hunters. We talked about giving up the bunker, about… finding a real place to live, you know? Like… you and Dean together, and me, well, close by.”

Sam smiled again to himself and then let out a half-grimacing laugh. “I… I mean I love you guys, but… you… there’s only so much… there’s only so many times I can walk in on you… you know…”

Cas felt himself blushing hot, mingled with a sense of frustration that he couldn’t remember any of that for himself, but kept silent, knowing there was nothing he could actually add.

“And… we talked about jobs we could do, what kind of money we’d need—can’t say some of our, uh, acquired _skills_ from hunting wouldn’t spill over to get us set up into a regular life,”

Cas took in the awkwardness in Sam then and smiled. “I would neither judge, nor think that you did not deserve everything good, Sam. You have both given so much for this world. You deserve something in return,”

Sam smiled, relaxing instantly. “So. We talked it over, and I mean, I’m talking over _weeks_. And despite Dean’s reluctance, you talked about giving up your grace. What it’d mean for you, how you’d get to age with us. All kinds of stuff, Cas. Dean…. Dean never pushed you into making the decision,”

“I know,” Cas agreed, running a hand through his hair and sitting back hard in his seat. “I know that, Sam. I know he wouldn’t, and I know I have been angry at him for suggesting he could have that kind of influence on me. Which is unfair. Because so many times he _has_ had that influence on me, Sam. So many times I have done things I should not have done, because Dean has asked me to,”

Sam felt a surge of sympathy for the forlorn look Cas gave him, wishing there was something he could do to help. “He knows that, Cas. I think that’s a big part of why he’s feeling so bad about this,”

“I have so much to apologize for,” Cas side, closing his eyes in defeat.

“Need me to stop?”

“No,” Cas said, immediately opening his eyes again and shaking his head. “No, I need to hear this. I have avoided this for too long… it has probably done nothing but add to this problem,”

“Okay,”

Cas watched as Sam took another moment to gather his thoughts together and forced himself not to show his impatience.

“Okay, so. We talked about all this stuff, and then… and then the three of us sat down and went over how you’d give up your grace. Dean couldn’t bear the thought of how painful it’d be for you, but you were adamant it’d be worth it. You planned where you’d do it, what we needed to do to help. You said… you said it’d be better if you woke up on your own, ‘n case you lashed out or something when you did,”

“I did wonder about that,” Cas admitted. “When Dean told me that we were together, I wondered why I had woken in my own room. Why I was not in Dean’s,”

“He was a mess, Cas. When you woke up not remembering, he just… packed up everything of yours in your—his and your room—and put them away, so… so that it wouldn’t… so you wouldn’t…”

“And I was angry with him for that, too,” Cas groaned, pressing his hand over his eyes and then propping his chin up on his palm against the table.

Sam smiled, showing that he already knew that, making Cas grimace about what other things he’d done Dean had probably told Sam about. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Dean to have someone to lean on, but that he’d done things to _make_ Dean need to lean on Sam in the first place that disturbed him about them talking.

Another pause, and Sam fidgeted awkwardly; Cas knew he was preparing himself for the most difficult part of his story and felt his own breathing start to quicken.

“We picked a day. For you to… you know. We got everything ready as much as we could. You… you insisted on checking us over, healing us one last time, making sure we were as healthy as we could be before you… before—”

“Before I could no longer heal you,” Cas finished for him glumly.

Sam smiled at him apologetically but nodded all the same. “So. You healed us, we got stuff ready for when you woke up. You warned us you might be disoriented, weak, might take a while to come round. You said you’d probably be bone tired, that maybe you’d spasm and stuff because your muscles would just… seize up, cramp, whatever, when you—when your grace was gone. You warned us about—about so many things. You didn’t warn us about the memory thing though, Cas,”

Cas heard the reproach in Sam’s voice despite him obviously trying to hide it. Instantly, Cas’ thoughts flew to Dean’s own comments when Cas had first woken and realized yet again all of the signals Dean had been giving him all along to tell him that there was so much _more_ to them.

Cas felt sick, angry at himself, thoroughly disappointed and horrified by what he had done, by the hurt he had caused Dean. How would he ever be able to take any of that back, to make any of it better? How was there going to be a way back from this? And if Dean continued insisting on pushing him away, where would he go? What would he do?

Undeterred, Sam continued, as though he needed to get these final words out, to unburden himself.

“So. Everything was ready. Dean tried to get you to go and… I don’t know, have one grand last tour as an angel and do ‘angel stuff’,”

Cas laughed a little; he could so easily picture Dean doing and saying just that.

“And then we drove to that park you like so much, the one on the edge of Lawrence?”

Cas nodded to show he knew what Sam was referring to.

“And… I waited in the car. Dean came with you, didn’t wanna leave you alone going through something like that. You… you ripped out your grace, Cas,” Sam said softly, looking back at him as though he wished he had an easier way of telling him that. “You… you ripped it out, and… god, the scream you let out when you did, Cas. I could hear it from where I’d parked the car. Think I can still hear it at times,”

Cas closed his eyes tiredly and said nothing, both thankful that he couldn’t remember the pain and grimacing at the thought of it; he knew how excruciating the pain was _supposed_ to be, but just couldn’t really imagine it at all.

“And then… and then you collapsed. You… there’s a… _huge_ tree and garden you grew there, Cas. When you… you know…”

“Ripped out my grace,” Cas mumbled out, eyes cast down to the table.

“Yeah… and then.... Next thing I knew, Dean was half-dragging, half-carrying you back to the car. You were out cold, Cas. We got you back here, got you to bed… and you didn’t move for three days, Cas, aside from breathing. Dean… Dean didn’t leave your side. I had to physically shove him away and out of your room to take five minutes, but he barely made it away for one. And… we both we were so scared you weren’t gonna make it. And then… then you woke up,”

Cas nodded, knowing the rest, waiting to feel the relief he expected to feel for knowing what had happened to him. What he felt instead was fear, that he didn’t know how he’d ever get through to Dean, to make him understand.

“You… you know that… I need you to know that I do love your brother, Sam. I may not remember all that we shared together, Sam, but. You must know that I was in love with your brother without telling him—either of you—for a very long time,”

“Cas,” Sam smiled, stretching. “You were about as obvious as… as… I don’t know, Cas. Honestly. I don’t know how you two didn’t figure it out like… _years_ ago. You and him, you just… I don’t know which of you was worse,”

Cas smiled to hear that, let it comfort him a little. “I never expected Dean to return these… feelings.”

“Well clearly he did, Cas. He does. You just… you just need to get through to him’s all,”

“I do not know _how_ , Sam. I… since Dean told me that we…since then... we have been… _together_ ,” and Cas fumbled out the word as though embarrassed to make Sam hear it.

“Yeah, I know, Cas,” Sam told him, grinning. “Told you. Neither of you do subtle,”

Cas felt his cheeks heat, but still shook his head. “It has been _wonderful_ , Sam,” he told him, and Sam let out a soft whine, covering his ears.

“Enough details, Cas,” Sam laughed, shaking his head and shielding his eyes.

“I was not about to give you _details_ , Sam,” Cas told him with indignance, pulling himself up to sit a little straighter. “I… was merely stating a fact. It has been wonderful. However… I do not believe it is as it once was between us,”

“How can it be, Cas? When you don’t remember back then? And more importantly, why does it need to be like then anyway? Isn’t it more important that you have, _whatever_ you have, right now?”

“You believe we should start over,” Cas stated, setting Sam off shaking his head.

“I’m saying you _have_ started over. That… you’re comparing something you don’t remember to what you have now. That’s… that’s never gonna work, Cas. Not for either of you,”

“I need Dean to understand what he means to me,”

“I think Dean needs to understand you don’t regret _him_ , Cas,” Sam told him gently, searching Cas’ face for understanding.

“How could he ever believe that I would regret _him_? After all that we have been through?” Cas replied, his voice laced with surprise and disbelief.

“You know Dean. You know how he assumes responsibility for the world. You say you regret falling, he hears you regret _him_ ,”

“I don’t regret falling,” Cas insisted again, gripping the edge of the table. “I told you. I regret not knowing how—”

“It’s Dean that needs to hear this, Cas.” Sam reminded him gently. “And… I know he’s a stubborn sonofabitch for… well. So many things, actually, but especially for stuff like this. You’ve just… you know him better than anyone, Cas. Whether you remember you do or not. You just… you need to get through to him is all,”

“You make it sound so simple,” Cas grumbled, and Sam shrugged, giving him a rueful smile.

“It _is_ simple,” he said, shrugging, “‘cos it’s not me that’s gotta do it,”

Cas rolled his eyes but nodded, knowing he’d need some time on his own to process all Sam had told him before he could face Dean honestly and try to fix things.

* * *

 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

“I am not leaving here until you speak to me, Dean,”

Cas eventually cornered Dean in the kitchen, watching him tense at the sound of his voice and squaring his own shoulders against the pain seeing Dean’s reaction caused him.

“And if you attempt to leave without listening to me,” Cas continued, before Dean could try doing just that, “Then I will follow you. And I will keep following you, until you allow me to talk, until I drown out whatever it is you are telling yourself about this that is _not_ true, and you understand what I am telling you, Dean,”

Cas waited with his breath held as Dean turned around slowly, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms tightly across his chest, eyes to the floor. The faucet dripped unreasonably loudly, Dean’s tense frame blocking it from Cas’ view, and Cas had a moment of remembering when he used to hear everything, at all times, had instinctively tuned it out.

That he was focusing in on this small, solitary noise, and the unsteady rise and fall of Dean’s chest, was a calming mechanism forcing Cas to keep his own breath even, his own fears stilled, reining in his impatience as it flared and raged at him to do something, anything, right now to get a reaction.

“What’s there to understand?” Dean mumbled out what felt like a long, long time later; Cas’ heart thudded at the dejectedness in Dean’s voice, and the fact that he’d actually got Dean to pause and listen, even if it was only for a moment.

“You need to understand the difference between… you need to know… you need to realize that I am… just as in love with you as I always was, Dean. From before I remember. From before I could _tell_ you. Through the time we had together when only _you_ remember, and now, Dean. Never will I regret that, Dean. I will never regret _you_. Never,”

Cas kept his voice fierce, and clear, and spoke with an authority he didn’t feel.

Dean said nothing; Cas’ heart gave a long, panicked thud, and he zeroed in on the dripping water again, a simple, tinny noise that he held on to keep his own rhythm and stop him from flailing.

“I may not remember, Dean,” Cas continued, sounding unwavering despite the chaos that was within. “But I feel. I _know_ , Dean. I know you. We have… we have too much together for this… misunderstanding to be the unraveling of it.”

“Misunderstanding, Cas?” Dean choked out, shaking his head and still looking straight at the floor. “You regret falling. And honestly? I can’t blame you for that. I _don’t_. I’m just…”

Dean raised his eyes tiredly then, and Cas’ arms ached to reach for him, to take that utter sadness he saw there away, to press soothing kisses to his skin that would bring peace to them both.

After staring for all of a couple of seconds, Dean croaked out, “I need to take a step back from you to… it’s gonna… when you leave me, Cas, which you will do, sooner or later, it’s gonna get ugly. I’m gonna be… such a _mess_."

Dean’s jaw trembled, but Cas could see the way he steeled himself, fighting through the hurt he was so obviously feeling and forcing himself to look at Cas when that was clearly that last thing he wanted. “I can’t… I don’t know how I’m… _who_ I am without you now, Cas, you’ve gotten in too deep, and I’ve gotta… I need to learn who I am all over again, and _now_ , ‘cos you’re gonna—”

“You will listen to me, now, Dean,” Cas’ voice was commanding as he stepped steadily towards him, feeling as though the waves of tension he could practically see rippling off of Dean were reaching out and crashing against his own skin. “You do not get to push me away. You will not. If our relationship means anything to you... Anything at all, you will _hear_ me, Dean. You _will_. Because… I know that you love me, Dean. And… I will do all I can to convince… to _remind_ you of how much I love you. So do not think you get to push me away here, Dean. Because I will wait for you. I will _be_ here for you. For as long as it takes. For longer. I am not going anywhere, and I am not letting you go,”

With heavy emphasis on his words Cas came closer, and closer, until he was standing directly in front of Dean and ducking his head to force the eye contact.

Dean gave a small shake of his head, barely perceptible; instantly Cas heard a low pitched hum as his blood surged in his ears in his panic, the sound blocking out everything else around them.

“Do not attempt to push me away, Dean. Not for this. Not for anything. I will not move,”

Cas watched as Dean’s lip trembled harder, at the tightness across his arms as he tried to hold himself together. With hesitation Cas reached out, wrapping his hands around Dean’s forearms and gently resting them there as he shuffled forward, leaning until they were pressed against one another as much as Cas dared, and Dean’s erratic breathing was tormenting his ears.

“Dean,” Cas breathed, leaning in, eyes now fixing on Dean’s lips and full of intent as he moved. Dean’s lip gave a final, violent tremble and Cas claimed it, pressing his mouth hard and insistently against Dean’s. A choked sob rippled its way up out of Dean’s throat and Cas swallowed it down, kissing him harder, desperate to take away all the hurt he could feel in Dean up close.

Another sob and Cas’ hands were shifting as Dean dropped his arms, hesitantly wrapping them around Cas’ lower back and pulling him tightly to him. Cas threw his arms around Dean’s neck, and Dean gave out a final tear-filled cry of Cas’ name before burying his face tightly in Cas’ neck and clinging on tight.

* * *

“We must talk this time, Dean,”

Cas watched as Dean nodded and stretched himself, his body somewhere between accepting of Cas’ words and wanting to lean away from them in reluctance.

“Yeah, I know, Cas. We gotta,”

Cas squeezed the hand he’d fallen asleep holding and readjusted the other on Dean’s side that had been jostled by his moving. Dean shifted closer, leaning his forehead against Cas’ and closing his eyes for a beat, then pulling back and smiling tiredly.

Last night, when they’d gripped on to one another tightly in the middle of the bunker’s kitchen as though they were each other’s lifeline, it had felt to Cas that they might not ever let each other go again. When their tears had subsided into stuttering hiccups and watery smiles—because he had been just as broken as Dean—Cas had threaded his fingers through Dean’s in silence and pulled him along until they were in their room.

They had undressed each other down to boxers, slow kisses and exploration of skin meaning it took forever for them to finally get beneath their covers, and when they did, they just stared at one another, hands entwined against the sheets and gently holding on to waists as though to anchor themselves to each other.

“We are not doing this again,” Cas said, adamant and unwavering. “We cannot, Dean. It is… foolish, for us to keep doing this to one another,”

Dean grimaced and closed his eyes again as he nodded. “You’d think we’dve learned by now,”

“We are learning now,” Cas countered, leaning forward to drop a kiss on Dean’s forehead, and cheek, and briefly to his lips before he pulled back, knowing he needed to stop himself instead of letting the distraction of Dean get the better of him.

“I… I can’t… what I said. I can’t lose you, Cas. I can’t,”

Softly raising his hand to cup Dean’s face and force him to look back at him, Cas smiled. “You will not lose me. And I will not lose you.”

“I never meant for you to find out like this. I never meant… I didn’t know what to do, Cas. What I should tell you,”

Cas sucked in a breath at the sadness in Dean’s voice. “I think, Dean, that we share equal… I do not think we should apportion blame. We were both attempting to do the right thing. As always,”

“You know I’d do anything for you, Cas,” Dean said with urgency, gripping a little tighter to Cas.

“As I would for you,”

“As you _have_ for me,” Dean corrected, swallowing awkwardly.

“Dean,” Cas said, giving a slight shake of his head, “We… we will be going in circles if we keep on like this. I think we should just agree that… that we are here now, and that I made this choice for multiple reasons, and that… that we are here now, Dean. That is what is important,”

“That seems a helluva lot like us avoiding talking again, Cas,” Dean said, his voice coming out a strange mix of doubtful and hopeful.

“I disagree. I think… I think the error we made before, was that we did not acknowledge… that… that we tried to start off as though we were already… as though nothing had changed between us, Dean, when clearly it had,”

“I think,” Dean sighed, his voice catching. “I think I was so… so desperate to get you back, that… that I didn’t think things through,”

“ _We_ didn’t think things through, Dean. This is not all on you,”

Dean stared back at him then, his expression tortured and torn, and before Cas could question it, try to find the root of the problem, Dean was surging forward and kissing him, wrapping his arm around Cas’ neck and pulling him as close as possible.

“Dean,” Cas rumbled breathlessly after a few moments, unable to keep the smile from his face. “We were supposed to be talking,”

“Multitasking, Cas,” Dean told him, stealing another quick kiss but leaning back and giving Cas room.

“So. Now?” Cas prompted when neither of them could find the words to say.

Dean shrugged. “I… we can’t start over like we’re new. And we can’t pick up where we left off from… before. We need to… I need to… where’d we meet on middle ground with that, Cas?”

Cas frowned, pressing his head briefly into the pillow. “I do not know. I wish… we could not _complicate_ things further, though.”

“You and me both,”

When neither of them could find the words again Cas groaned to himself, pitched forward, and rolled Dean on to his back, losing them both in a kiss that he hoped said a lot more than they were managing to say to one another with actual words.

“How ‘bout,” Dean tried a while later, running his hands down Cas’ back and resting them lightly around his waist, “How ‘bout… we just… we just _try_ , Cas. We’ve… it’s gotta be easier than we’re making it. It’s not like… it’s not like we’re not on the same page, now, right?”

Cas nodded, nuzzling against him. “I love you. You love me. That part is very simple to understand,”

“Then… Cas, can we just… I—if something’s bothering you, or me, we need to just… say it, from now on. No more hiding it, no more… I don’t know, bottling it up, pretending like everything’s good when it isn’t.”

Dean wrapped his arms tightly around Cas then, nudging his way into another kiss.

“We… I think if we can start making ourselves do that… maybe… maybe that’s the only change we need to make. ‘Cos you and me? The rest of it?” Dean said, smiling so hopefully that Cas couldn’t help returning it, “We’re _good_ , Cas. We’re so good,”

“Then,” Cas replied, shifting to get more comfortable and pressing his nose briefly into Dean’s neck to inhale with a long, shaky sigh, “Then we will talk. When we need to. From now on. No more silence between us,”

“No more silence,” Dean echoed.

Cas kissed him again then, deep, and long, molding himself over Dean and finally feeling relief flood through him after so many days of being on edge. They could do this, he told himself, they _would_ do this.

“I’m… I’m so sorry I pushed you away, Cas,” Dean told him softly then, running his hands over as much of Cas as he could reach as though rediscovering every line of him, making sure he was still there.

“I am guilty of the same,” Cas replied easily, and for a moment they just paused, staring, breathing each other’s air, taking comfort in their closeness and the sense that maybe they might get things right this time.

“You are mine, Dean,” he told him simply after that pause, pressing more kisses into him as though he needed to lay claim to him. “And I am yours. And we are… we are not going to have this… this _difficulty_ between us again. No more arguments.”

“Well,” Dean said, his hands curling into Cas’ sides once again as his lips curled up into a mischievous grin that was just a poor imitation of his usual one. But Cas would take it, would take whatever Dean could give him, anything that showed that they were going to be okay. “Some arguments are worth it,”

At the soft way Dean rocked up against him Cas also smiled, bending and kissing along his neck and pressing his nose against his skin, breathing him in. “Such as?”

And Dean’s grin grew wider, showing Cas exactly how relieved, and hopeful, and _good_ he felt in that moment. “Oh, you know. All the ones when we get to make up like this,”

Cas laughed, but gave an answering roll of his hips that had Dean’s grin stutter. “We could just do this anyway,”

“We will,” Dean told him, stilling and shifting to run a hand through the back of Cas’ hair, holding him gently in place. “We will. We _are_ ,”

* * *

Cas smiled at the weight of Dean’s arm being slung around his shoulders and leaned into him, content. Images flickered at them from the laptop screen that neither were particularly watching; the easy silence between them and the general feeling of being at rest was enough.

A week had passed, and how different it had been to the last time, Cas reflected to himself, relishing in Dean’s warmth against him.

Dean dipped his head down, pressing a kiss to the side of Cas’ head, which had Cas smiling wider and pressing back against in acceptance. Dean kissed him there again, bending to kiss his temple, cheek, and jaw, before loosening his grip on Cas and shifting just enough so he had room to kiss along Cas’ neck as well. Cas hummed, enjoying the softness of Dean’s lips contrasting with the slight roughness of his stubble and angled his head away, silently asking for more.

There had, to Cas’ relief and surprise, not really been any difficult conversations between them at all. Just honesty, tentative openness, a feeling of being able to say and do anything either of them wanted, safe in the knowledge that the other would accept it, would accept _them_ , and that there was no reason in the world for either of them to hold back anymore.

With another shift, Dean kissed back up, then back down Cas’ neck, nosing at the collar of his shirt before raising his free hand to tilt Cas’ face up to him so that he could kiss his mouth. Cas kissed back eagerly, immediately turning in the crook of Dean’s arm and sliding his own hand up to thread through Dean’s hair.

This was easy, Cas idly thought to himself, turning a little more into Dean and smiling as he shifted against him. The opening of mouths with gentle nudges, the exploring and chasing of tongues, the fingers angling faces just right then savoring the feel of soft hair, firm skin, rough stubble. This they could get right, and they had got this right, even when everything else about them at times over the past few months had been difficult and overly complicated.

Cas pushed that brief memory very firmly away, reveling instead in the feel of Dean against him. Being together like this, just because they wanted to, just because they _could_ , without the need for it to be going anywhere, this was good. Easy. Right. There was no need to let his mind wander anywhere else.

Cas loved the discoveries he made about Dean—and himself in many respects—when they were like this. Dean’s breath always stuttered and his throat caught when Cas licked his way into Dean’s mouth, or bit down on his lower lip, or nudged Dean’s lips apart with his own. Cas in turn felt his skin tingle and his stomach flip in anticipation when Dean bit down softly anywhere along his neck, then laved over it with his tongue. There was a spot just at the base of Dean’s hair that if Cas stroked there with his fingertips had Dean sighing out contentedly. And when Dean cupped Cas’ face in his hands as though he was something very precious to him, Cas couldn’t help pressing in a little closer, taking a little more of Dean’s heat, feeling a kind of peace flooding through him as though he knew this was where he belonged.

Wide smiles, whispered _I love yous_ , working of fingers beneath shirts to press into skin; Cas could and would happily lose himself in moments like this time and time again, safe in the confidence of _them_ , and the evidence of the contented little sighs escaping Dean’s lips, that he was feeling just the same.

Dean paused from where he’d been nuzzling into Cas’ neck, just to look at him and simply stare, as though he was brimming over with happiness. That belonging feeling washed through Cas once again to see it, and as he angled his head up to claim yet another kiss, Cas thought to himself that perhaps that feeling might never leave either of them again.

* * *

“I want to take you out tonight, Dean,”

Dean gave Cas a curious smile, glancing down as Cas threaded their fingers together and raised their hands to kiss the back of Dean’s.

“Okay,” Dean replied easily. “Where’re we going?”

Cas dropped their hands and raised both of his up to cup Dean’s face, leaning in for a kiss that was only supposed to be brief but finding himself wanting, and taking more. Dean showed no objection, raising his own hands to loop low around Cas’ waist and pull him closer, with Cas humming in approval at the feel of their bodies pressed flush together, and happy to linger there even longer.

When breathless Cas pulled back, smiling so wide it felt like it might split, and then further still at Dean’s answering grin. Cas laughed, stretching and wrapping his arms loosely around Dean’s neck and bending to kiss along his neck before briefly claiming his lips again.

“Dinner, of course,” Cas replied eventually, caught up in Dean’s chuckle and the way his eyes danced.

“Gonna wine and dine me, Cas?” Rocking him softly from side to side. “Make me go to some fancy restaurant where I get the forks mixed up and embarrass you?”

“Dean,” Cas chided, kissing him again, and happily swaying back with him. “Firstly, you would not embarrass me. Second, I would be as confused as you about the forks. I fail to understand why you need so many differently shaped ones for the same function of eating.”

Dean snorted, rewarding him with another kiss. “There a third, Cas?”

“There is,” Cas agreed, distracting himself yet again by capturing Dean’s lips once more. “Since when are you and I the kind of people who eat in such places?”

Dean nodded, seeming to be unable to stop smiling. “Is this the time to remind you of your obsession with PBJs?”

“It is not an obsession. Although that is still an excellent sandwich filling, Dean,”

“Uh huh. When you’re five,” Dean teased, eyes dancing with mirth.

“Dean. I have sat and watched you eat pie for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I do not believe you are in a position to judge,” Cas chided, but as his words were interrupted with him dropping kisses to Dean’s cheek, lips and neck, there was no way to mistake Cas’ lack of offense.

“Pie is a whole other world, Cas. I’m kinda offended you’re even comparing the two if I’m honest,”

“Dean,” Cas said then in a soft, quiet tone laced with amusement, affection, and happiness. “If you tell me that what you want is pie for dinner, then that is what we will have,”

Dean’s curled up as though he was fighting back another laugh. “I could go for pizza. Or pasta.”

“Then we will go for pizza. Or pasta,” Cas told him, leaning in and kissing him once again.

* * *

 

In the tiny restaurant that was Lawrence’s best attempt at Italian, Dean and Cas were lost in their own little world. Perhaps they weren’t feeding each other with long lingering looks like the couple directly to their right. Maybe they were not openly groping at each other as the couple in the corner behind them was doing, so much so that the youngest member of waiting staff was almost having a sex ed lesson right there from across the room. But they were very definitely lost in each in other; a squeeze of a hand, a stealing of a kiss, an easy trading of food that spoke of a comfortableness between them that was natural and unforced.

Long after they had drained the last of their coffee and cleaned their plates of every last taste of dessert, Dean leaned into Cas’ side and asked, “Feel like a walk?”

Cas nodded immediately, and after paying for their meal threaded his fingers through Dean’s and pulled him to his feet, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, turning briefly to flip off the one customer who made a disgruntled sound at seeing it.

Dean gave out a loud, bellowing laugh at Cas’ reaction, wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him in for a loud, noisy kiss that earned them a round of applause from the table next to them. Before they could cause any more mischief Cas pushed open the restaurant door and led them outside, grumbling under his breath.

“I’ve clearly been a bad influence on you, Cas,” Dean beamed, lacing his fingers easily through Cas’ again as they fell into an easy stride side by side.

“I dislike bigotry,” Cas huffed, still frowning a little; Dean squeezed his hand in reassurance and shrugged.

For a few blocks they walked in comfortable silence, pausing briefly in front of a couple of store windows but otherwise concentrating on nothing at all. Cas’ thumb brushed over the back of Dean’s hand absently, which Dean glanced down at from time to time and smiled secretly to himself at seeing.

“Dean,” Cas said after a while, his voice hesitant enough to have Dean turning to look at him curiously. “Please do not be… offended… by what I am about to say,”

Dean snorted, squeezing his hand again and teased him with, “Way to start a conversation, Cas,”

Cas winced, looking guilty enough for Dean to pull them to a stop.

“Cas. I was kidding,” And to prove it, Dean leaned in to kiss him quickly with a smile that Cas was soon echoing.

“So?” Dean prompted when they continued walking but Cas didn’t speak.

“I… it is not that I am… _surprised_ … that you are… okay with us being… together like this,” Cas said with caution, looking down at their joined hands.

Dean followed his gaze. “‘Like this?’”

“Yes,” Cas confirmed. “I… I am sorry, Dean. I assumed you would find this… more difficult. That you would have a…. A problem with being seen—”

“With a guy?” Dean finished for him, smiling ironically as he nudged Cas’ shoulder.

Cas nodded, contrite, feeling his cheeks heat with his own embarrassment.

Dean nodded in return and sighed, turning his eyes straight ahead. “I’ll be honest, Cas. When you and me… when we first started out, I was a bit… reluctant. To… hold your hand in public, the whole… you know. PDA thing,”

Cas worked out for himself the abbreviation and nodded, waiting for Dean to go on.

“But after like about a month? I just stopped caring. I… I guess up until then—and part of the reason it took me so long to tell you what I wanted was… I guess… I _know_ … you know my dad was kind of… he would’ve… I… he wouldn’tve approved of this, at all,” Dean finally blurted out, looking down at their joined hands sadly.

“And,” Dean continued, frowning a little, “And I just… I stopped hearing him.”

“‘Hearing him’?” Cas repeated, turning slightly to him for clarification.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “For so long, everything I did? I heard my dad. Telling me I was doing it wrong. Telling me I was letting him down, letting _Sam_ down. And one day… I just… stopped hearing him. I think… I think it was you in part, you know,”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Dean told him, smiling with a warmth that seemed to resonate through Cas as well. “Told you we were _good_ , Cas. I guess… it just _felt_ right, and I… I stopped caring what anyone else might think,”

Cas smiled, and there must have still been some lingering doubt there in his expression because the next thing he knew, Dean was pulling them to a stop again, cupping his face, and kissing him gently right there on the sidewalk with no awkwardness or embarrassment at all.

When Dean pulled back, he searched Cas’ face for understanding, and when he was satisfied pressed another quick kiss to his lips, before wrapping his fingers through Cas’ once more and starting up their walk again.

“I have another question, Dean,” Cas asked after a while, earning himself a sideways glance from him and another nudge against his shoulder.

“How did we ‘start’, Dean?”

Cas hated having to ask, having searched for that particular memory more than any other, and waited expectantly for Dean to answer him.

“Well,” Dean said, that nervous hand up on the back of his neck instantly, “Being you and me, you probably figured out it involved a fight,”

“We were fighting with each other?” Cas said sadly, although having half-expected to hear those very words.

“Not exactly,” Dean corrected, screwing his face up as though trying to remember. “It… we’d been… let’s just say there was a lot of, uh… tension between us leading up to us getting together. We’d been… _I’d_ been... Really like… argumentative with you—”

“That does not sound like you,” Cas mumbled, turning to grin at Dean and see the smile returned there.

“Think you’re funny, huh?” Dean laughed, but nodded anyway.

“I think you find me very funny,” Cas countered, and sure enough, Dean was immediately laughing loud.

“You are,” Dean agreed with a quick kiss to his temple. “Anyway. We’d been… I guess we’d been… bitching at each other harder than usual. Sam was getting pissed off with us both—me especially—and it was getting really, really uncomfortable between the three of us,”

“This is not a good story,” Cas complained, earning himself another laugh.

“Want the hearts and flowers version, Cas?” Dean retorted, bringing their joined hands up to kiss Cas’ knuckles.

“I apologize,”

“Anyway,” Dean said, smiling as though Cas was the funniest thing he had ever seen, “We were on a case, and it got really heated between us. I was yelling at you, you were glaring at me. Sam was sick of us both,” Dean laughed then, shaking his head and making Cas laugh with him.

“And after… it was a witch, the case, and you know how I feel about witches,” Dean added, waiting for Cas to nod. “And… and it was a near miss, Cas. I mean… when isn’t it a near miss with witches? But still. We dealt with her, and Sam got this cut to his arm that you healed, and we were miles from the bunker, tired, cranky as hell,”

“Please continue, Dean,” Cas prompted when Dean paused, as though hesitating.

“We—you and me—we had this huge, blazing row, right in the middle of the street. Right in front of Sam. And you just… you…”

Much to Cas’ frustration Dean began shaking his head, laughing at himself.

“Dean,”

“And you… you just… crowded me back against the car until I couldn’t move, and you were glaring at me so hard, Cas. It was… it was _hot_ ,”

An embarrassed squeak found its way out of Cas’ throat; Dean turned to smile at him in reassurance.

“And… and I guess we just… broke,”

“‘Broke’?” Cas repeated dumbly.

“Yeah. I grabbed you by that damn trenchcoat of yours and pulled you in, and we started making out like… like we were tryna suck the breath out of each other’s lungs,” Dean laughed, shaking his head again but the happiness at the memory very clearly written across his face.

“And… and next thing I knew, you’d zapped us to a motel—you actually forgot and left Sam standing there,” And Dean laughed even harder at that memory, actually bringing a hand up to wipe his eyes. “And you and me… you and me, we… well. Let’s just say we made out a _lot_ and actually _talked_ for once. Eventually, anyway,”

Cas smiled, feeling his cheeks heating again but not caring. “How much is ‘a lot’?”

“I looked like I’d been stung in the mouth,” Dean laughed, raising a finger to trace along his bottom lip. “And my—and your neck… we… we were a _mess_ , Cas.”

“‘A mess?’”

“More hickeys than neck,” Dean snorted, rubbing the back of his neck again.

“I did not heal them?” Cas asked, although judging by the way he felt a stirring of arousal at the thought of leaving his mark on Dean, he presumed not.

“Not all of them,”

“Not all? How many of them were there?”

Dean snorted again, raising his arm to wrap around Cas’ shoulder and smiling to feel Cas’ arm around his waist. “Too many to count. Not that I was complaining,”

Cas turned his head enough to press a kiss to Dean’s arm and allowed himself to relax into Dean’s warmth.

More easy silence followed for a few more minutes as they walked, until Cas raised a hand to Dean’s stomach to stop him from moving and tilted his head in the direction of a store.

“I think it is necessary for us to buy pie now, Dean,” Cas told him solemnly, but the corners of his mouth turning up in amusement that contrasted with his tone. “And perhaps… perhaps we can go back to the car? I… seem to remember that there was a place not very far from here where you and Sam once took me that would be nice,”

Dean’s mouth curled into a soft grin. “You, me, pie in the Impala? Sounds perfect,”

Cas leaned in to claim a kiss, then nodded his head again towards the store.

* * *

On the hood of the Impala with Dean mumbling through his happy grin at cliche date nights, Cas viewed the constellations above them from a very different perspective than he was used to. Between mouthfuls of pie that burst flavor on his tongue, he told stories of his experiences that had Dean smiling at him eagerly, urging him on for more.

Cas asked more questions about them being together, becoming more accepting that his memories of those times before he fell were probably lost to him, and excited at the thought of how many more memories they could make now, to start over with.

For them both, there had come a settled feeling, a kind of peace that they hadn’t felt together for a while—possibly ever. Since Cas had woken they had been through so many emotional upheavals, and it was only now, with everything out in the open between them that both of them felt utter acceptance, and an honest kind of contentedness that made everything feel easy, and simple between them.

The evening ended many hours later, with them creeping back into the bunker so as not to wake Sam. Slow, languid kisses soothed their way to sleepiness, and Cas fell asleep in Dean’s arms to the reassuring sound of his heart beating beneath his ear.

* * *

 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

“I’m getting too old for this,” Sam grumbled, angling his knee uncomfortably to inspect the mess of bruise and open cuts there.

Dean snorted, rolling his shoulders, wincing as Cas dabbed antiseptic at a graze along his side. Cas pressed a kiss into his shoulder in apology; Sam smirked to see it, caught Dean’s eyes and smirked more, but said nothing.

“You’re getting too old for this?” Dean said eventually, completely incredulous. “I’ve got four years on you, Sammy, not to mention—”

“I believe I have eons on you both,” Cas countered quietly, frowning at the blood and dirt on the dressing between his fingers and throwing it with distaste into the trashcan by their side.

“Alright, no need to brag,” Dean complained, but there was no malice, nothing but an affectionate smile that Cas returned automatically and Sam bit back another comment on.

“I do not believe it was a brag, Dean, merely the stating of a fact,”

“Stop being a brat,” Dean retorted, and Cas chuckled, shaking his head and handing over the bottle of antiseptic, watching as Dean recapped it.

“I think what you meant to say, Dean, is ‘thank you for treating my injuries’,”

With a laugh that to Sam’s ears was far too enthusiastic, much too adoring, Dean rested his arms over Cas’ shoulders and raised an amused eyebrow. “‘Thank you for treating my injuries, Cas,”

Cas lips twitched in an effort to keep his own amusement at bay, and his hands ghosted up to rest on Dean’s sides. “You are welcome, Dean,”

This time, when they apparently forgot Sam was right there in the room with them and just as tired out as them both, Sam didn’t hold back the indignant grumble he felt building, rolling his eyes in exasperation as they turned to look at him as one.

“I’m way, way too tired for this shit,” Sam complained, limping away to swallow down painkillers with a grimace before returning and bringing some back for both Cas and Dean.

“Getting harder every time,” Dean agreed, an unspoken look passing between the three of them that spoke of their growing weariness with their hunting. “And we’re not even going out half as much. Less, probably,”

“Perhaps we should… begin planning again,” Cas suggested with hesitance, feeling oddly out of place for being the one to suggest it when he hadn’t been there—couldn’t remember—the initial conversations that had triggered such thinking in the first place.

Dean simply nodded, stretching with a grimace and yawning uncontrollably, before cleaning away the last of their trash from fixing each other up and nudging against Cas’ arm. “Shower? Bed? ‘Course we need to think about this some more, but… we need sleep, like, now,”

“Agreed,” Sam said with his own answering yawn. “Get some shut-eye, compare some bruises in the morning… we’ll... Start figuring this out again,”

Dean laced his fingers through Cas’ and towed him in the direction of the bathroom, briefly clapping a hand on Sam’s shoulder as Cas called a quiet goodnight on the way out.

* * *

Cas woke and stirred against Dean’s chest, blinking into the darkness and listening to see if there was any reason for his sleep being disturbed.

When certain that there was nothing for him to be concerned about, Cas sighed to himself and pressed a kiss to Dean’s sternum, ready to settle back to sleep. Dean’s arms immediately tightened around him, light fingers sweeping up unconsciously and pushing Cas’ shirt up his back, exposing his skin to the cold.

Cas smiled against Dean’s chest, torn between wanting to reach out for the blanket that had slipped away from them during the night and not wanting to wake Dean at all. But the coldness soon proved too much, and with a reluctant shuffle he moved, slowly, hoping not to jostle Dean at all.

Of course, even in sleep Dean was hyper-aware of Cas’ movements; a sleepy stir saw Dean stretching against him and automatically snagging up the blanket Cas had been trying to reach. He settled it around Cas, pulling him closer and dropping a kiss down on the top of Cas’ head, mumbling incoherently there and making Cas smile all over again.

Cas pressed his fingers into Dean’s sides, fumbling to slide them under Dean’s t-shirt; Dean hummed appreciatively and his own fingers began tracing lazy circles into Cas’ back. Cas kissed against Dean’s chest again and raised his head slightly, kissing him higher up, and higher, until he could kiss the exposed skin of Dean’s neck.

Dean swallowed loudly, and Cas was sure he was smiling; Cas kissed his way back down again to where he’d started and lower, shuffling beneath the blanket to trail kisses down until he was nosing Dean’s t-shirt up and out of the way so he could kiss his stomach. Cas stayed there, lightly stroking Dean’s sides as he showered Dean’s skin with kisses that had Dean reaching up and running his hands through and over Cas’ hair, urging him on.

Feeling bold in the dark, Cas moved himself lower, mouthing at the outline of Dean’s cock through his boxers and smirking there as Dean let out a soft gasp. Cas dragged his fingers down until he was snagging Dean’s boxers with them and pulling, and the moment Dean was free of them Cas began a path of open kisses from his base all the way up to the tip as Dean hardened against his lips.

Dean stuttered as Cas flicked out his tongue over his head, his hands flexing in Cas’ hair as though he didn’t know whether to hold on or tell him to stop. Cas glanced up at him in the darkness unable to see his expression, and dragged himself up until he was hovering over Dean, ghosting their lips together.

“I am sorry I woke you, Dean,” Cas mumbled, kissing him softly.

“I’m not,” Dean countered with a catch in his throat, opening up the kiss and darting his tongue along Cas’ lip, making it clear that any thought of sleep was well and truly forgotten. Cas smiled against him, wriggling until he was comfortably straddling Dean’s legs, and began a lazy circling of his hips that had Dean helplessly grinning against his lips.

“Just so you know, Cas,” Dean said, sliding his hands up under Cas’ shirt and pulling it up instantly over his head as Cas pressed himself up as much as possible to assist him, “You can wake me up like this any and every time you want,”

Cas hummed, kneeling then settling himself down to sit on Dean’s lap and pulling Dean to sit so that he could help Dean out of his shirt as well. The second his skin was exposed Cas’ mouth was on Dean, pressing kisses and licks to his shoulder, and neck, and curling down to suck a nipple into his mouth, making Dean arch up against him.

Cas rested his hands on the flats of Dean’s shoulders, dipping his head down and kissing Dean thoroughly, and slowly, enjoying the eager, urgent way Dean kissed him back and pressed his fingers in firmly around Cas’ hips. They rocked into one another slowly, lazily, occasionally breaking away from their kiss as soft groans won out and escaped from their mouths. Dean idly ran a thumb over Cas’ hardness through his boxers, swallowing down Cas’ answering moan.

“Can we, Dean?” Cas whispered, unsurprised by the way Dean froze beneath him.

Since his first waking, their coming together, pulling apart, and starting over yet again had seen their caution replaced with giving in to their urges, but never giving in entirely. Cas wanted Dean, had wanted him since long before he really understood what that meant, but up until that point, he hadn’t been able to reach out and take what he wanted so very much.

It wasn’t fear, it wasn’t a lack of trust; in fact, thinking about it now, Cas could put no name nor reason to why he had been hesitant for them to be together like this.

Dean, ever protective of him, had been beyond patient, reminding Cas over and over that their intimacy was a lot more than just what they could do with each other physically. And that, Dean’s patience and never-ending understanding, meant that in that moment, Cas could no longer find it in him to have anything left to resist.

“I want to,” Cas continued, disliking the nervous way his own voice trembled but forcing his way through it, leaning down to kiss Dean softly. “I want you, Dean,”

Dean nodded, swallowing thickly himself and stroking his fingers over Cas’ chest. “You know I want you too, Cas. But—”

“There is nothing to wait for,” Cas told him before kissing him hard again, taking the words from Dean’s mouth before he could say them out loud.

Trembling fingers against his sides and a shaky breath that tickled across his lips told Cas that Dean wasn’t planning on fighting him on this. Cas smiled, kissing him slowly, ghosting his hands over Dean’s chest and stomach and guiding Dean’s hand to touch him again.

After only the slightest hesitation Dean pulled back the waistband of Cas’ boxers and dipped his hand inside, breathing out in what sounded like relief as his fingers closed around Cas’ cock. Cas moaned out whisper quiet, resting his forehead down on Dean’s and humming to himself as Dean gently stroked him.

Cas ducked his head, claiming a kiss that licked tongue across teeth insistently, deep and plunging and forcing an answering groan from Dean’s throat. Cupping his hand against Dean’s cheek Cas pulled away a touch, watching Dean watch him back in the dark. He stilled a hand against Dean’s chest for a moment, pitching to the side to snag the bedside light on before righting himself on Dean’s lap. Cas smiled, leaning for a small kiss to Dean’s lips before sitting back, never breaking eye contact, allowing Dean to see just how good he was making him feel as he stroked him.

Something seemed to click instinctively in Cas that Dean liked seeing him like this, liked knowing that what he was doing to Cas, that Cas was thoroughly enjoying every touch and taste. So Cas voiced that enjoyment, let Dean see and hear every small groan and grunt he stroked out of him, grinding down on his lap and wordlessly asking for more.

Dean tilted his face up and kissed Cas desperately, his shoulders tensing beneath Cas’ hands as though he was trying himself not to go too fast. Cas moaned against his lips, grinning at the intake of breath Dean gave in response, then pulled away, unable to stop smiling at him. As Dean smiled back, Cas ducked his head, mouthed at Dean’s earlobe and kissed his way down his neck before biting down, growing harder as Dean moaned out in appreciation.

“Dean,” he whispered against his skin, biting again, laving over with his tongue, trailing the same path back up to his ear. “Dean, how do we normally do this?”

Because Cas had imagined everything, in every possible way, wanted every part of Dean he would let him have. But Dean… Cas couldn’t know, couldn’t remember his preferences, and wouldn’t reach out in assumption to do anything that might make him uncomfortable.

Dean smiled, not answering for a moment as he mirrored Cas’ attention to his neck by biting down on the soft skin just below Cas’ ear, making Cas’ cock jump in his hand and his heart thud violently in his chest. “Any way you want, Cas,”

“No, Dean,” Cas shook his head, pressing a kiss to his cheek and cupping Dean’s face, forcing him to look at him. “This isn’t about what I want, Dean. It is about what _we_ want. I know I would be happy to do… anything with you. Anything at all. But I want to know… what you like. What… feels good to you,”

Dean nodded, and there was a slight brightness to Dean’s eyes that had Cas concerned for all of a second before Dean smiled, whispered, “You,” and kissed him again.

“You feel good, Cas,” Dean whispered again when he pulled away. “ You do. This. All of this. But if you’re asking what’s normal for us… what if… what if I tell you and it’s not what you really want? What if you’re disappointed?”

Cas kissed Dean hard at hearing that, rolling his hips and gripping his fingers through Dean’s hair with urgency. “I do not see how I could ever be disappointed by anything we share together, Dean,”

“Good to know,”

“Dean…” Cas trembled out a little desperately, gripping on to Dean tightly as though he was afraid of him slipping away.

And Dean laughed, sliding his hands up Cas’ back, dropping his head to rest on Cas’ shoulder.

“Sometimes… Sometimes I’m inside you, Cas,”

Dean’s head raised, eyes checking for Cas’ reaction and comforted to see nothing but his pupils dilating with lust.

“But most of the time,” Dean continued, tilting his head to kiss Cas again, “Most of the time… well, most of the time you’re inside me,”

Cas let out an uncontrolled moan at hearing that, and if that wasn’t enough evidence of how much he wanted exactly that to happen, then his cock twitching hard between where their chests were almost pressed together was a clear enough signal in itself.

“I want that,” Cas stammered out, gripping his fingers around Dean’s waist and darting his tongue into Dean’s mouth. “I want that,”

“You got it,” Dean replied brokenly chasing Cas’ tongue desperately and wrapping his arms around Cas’ shoulders.

“I want you,” Cas told him quietly, and gently pressed backward until Dean was flat against the bed looking up at him. Dean swallowed in anticipation and nodded, eyes dropping when Cas slid down his own boxers and kicked them to the floor, before reaching out and pulling down Dean’s in one quick move.

Cas kneeled back between Dean’s legs nudging his knees apart and leaned down, lining their cocks up against one another and groaning out in answer to Dean’s own. He rolled his hips against Dean, biting down on his neck as he shifted to balance on his elbows and traced his fingertips against the hair at the back of Dean’s neck.

Dean’s answer was to part his legs wider and stroke his hands down Cas’ back, cupping his ass and grinding up hard against him. They rocked together, soft groans and the slide of lips the only sounds they made for a while, until Cas growled out and pressed their cocks hard together, bracing there unmoving for a moment, then pulled away, straightening up.

Before Dean could object or comment Cas was moving, hands resting against Dean’s waist as he ducked and swallowed Dean’s cock down without warning. Dean cried out, fingers twitching by his sides and his heels digging into the bed, breathing out low and shallow as he watched Cas bobbing his head up and down, lips stretched slickly around him.

Cas leaned again, wrapping and squeezing his fingers around Dean’s base as he pulled off, grinning up at him for a second then flicking his tongue out over Dean’s head. He kept the eye contact as he continued lapping at him, his own arousal feeling heavy between his legs but being ignored as he gave his full attention to Dean.

Another thought occurred to Cas and his eyes narrowed, searching for something in Dean’s. With a final lick over Dean’s cock from base to tip Cas shuffled himself lower, lifting and pressing Dean’s thighs further apart as Dean gave out a whine of protest at the loss. Cas circled his thumb over Dean’s inner thigh and pressed a kiss there, then licked, then kissed again. He breathed out hard over the base of Dean’s cock, smiling as it bounced, then pressed a soft kiss to his perineum, smiling harder at the choking sound escaping from above him.

Another kiss to Dean’s other inner thigh, lips ghosting over Dean’s balls, Cas knew all of this instinctively. Knew exactly where to kiss, and touch, and lick that would make Dean squirm, and howl, and come. Perhaps he didn’t have specific memories of before, Cas thought to himself, spreading his hands wider, and lower as he did. But he knew this, knew Dean’s body, and that was more than definitely enough.

Cas parted Dean with his thumbs and blew over Dean’s hole, watching his entire body jerk beneath him and holding back the laugh he felt at Dean’s instant choked, “Oh god,”

Cas pressed his lips over Dean’s hole for a moment, doing nothing more than that and feeling Dean twitching in anticipation. Then he was pressing a soft kiss there, parting him a little wider, and licking a long, slick path over him that forced a loud, broken groan out from Dean’s lips. Cas licked again, low, and long, pausing and pressing against Dean’s hole insistently before dragging his tongue away, and repeating this until he could feel Dean opening up for him.

Cas lapped at him until he could dart his tongue inside, and the choked gasps that urged him on had Cas grinding himself against the bed to ease a little of the friction there. Dean whimpered when Cas pulled away, raising his hips and begging him to continue; Cas relented after only a second, slicking his tongue in as far as he could, swirling it around inside Dean relentlessly, and gripping tight on to Dean’s spread legs as Dean cried out incoherent encouragement.

When he ached to be inside Dean so much that it was painful to wait any longer Cas pulled away, an apologetic kiss to Dean’s stomach as on shaking hands and knees he crawled his way back up Dean’s body. Cas braced himself on his palms over Dean’s head, claiming a thoroughly dirty kiss that Dean moaned his way into, tasting himself on Cas’ tongue.

Dean fumbled to the side; Cas felt a cool hardness pressing against his hip and glanced down to look at the bottle of lube Dean had pressed there, then back up to his face as Dean swallowed anxiously, staring back up at him.

“Only if you’re ready, Cas,” he whispered, but the tight-fingered grip around the bottle told Cas that if he was to pull back now, Dean would probably fall apart in sheer frustration.

Not that Cas had any intention—or willpower—to pull back from Dean now.

Snagging the bottle up in his own hand, Cas bent to kiss Dean quickly then kneeled, popped the cap open on the bottle and inspected the gel as he drizzled it on his fingers. This he remembered, Cas smiled to himself, the brief resistance as he pressed one finger slowly into Dean, the moan he gave in answer as Dean spread his legs even wider, asking for more.

Cas rolled a little to his side, alternating between kissing Dean and watching himself opening Dean up. That one finger was soon joined by another, and something told Cas just exactly where to twist his fingers, spread them wider, press, until Dean was crying out his name and pressing his head back into the pillow.

Cas leaned down to reward him with a kiss, smirking at the broken look on Dean’s face as he repeatedly angled his fingers against Dean’s prostate until he was able to do little more than babble. When he slid in a third finger Dean arched his neck; Cas took the opportunity to bite down there and Dean just sobbed, turning his head a little, asking for even more.

Another bite, another twist of his fingers; Cas was now beyond uncomfortable, desperate to be inside of Dean, to have that ache that raged through him soothed and sated. Shifting on to his knees, he pressed Dean open again, groaning a little at the slick openness waiting for him then glanced back up at Dean’s face, checking once more.

Dean nodded shakily, and Cas pressed forward, cursing as his head breached Dean’s opening, popping in with a slick sliding sound. He’d intended to go slow, but that swallowing heat just sucked him in, and Cas was buried to the hilt within an instant, both of them crying out at the feel of it.

Cas forced himself not to move, tensing his thighs and fighting the urge to just pound into Dean uncontrollably. Instead he breathed out, hard, lowered himself over Dean until his face was bracketed between Cas’ hands. Dean stared back at him, little gasps forming soft ohs of his lips as his hands shakily gripped on to Cas’ sides. Dean shifted his legs and the movement had them both groaning, and Cas lost his battle to keep still.

Cas dropped hard against Dean’s chest managing to reach down and drag Dean’s legs up by the back of the knee before he was pounding into him, chasing heat as though he had no control over his movements at all. Dean urged him on, with words, rolls of his hips, gripping tightly and impossibly giving Cas even more of himself.

Cas had to close his eyes to the sensations; this was both overwhelming and exactly what he needed, exactly what he had been missing all of this time as he chased down the heat inside himself by stroking harder and deeper into Dean. For every time he struck Dean’s prostate there was an answering gasp or whimper, every withdraw saw a tightening of Dean’s fingers curling into his sides that Cas knew would leave marks he would thoroughly enjoy investigating later.

But right now, in this moment, in Dean, all Cas could do was chase his instincts, arching up, leaning down, circling and slamming his hips in the perfect rhythm.

Cas’ eyes sprung open at the quiet sob he heard, instantly slowing and looking down at Dean worriedly. But Dean shook his head, telling him not to worry, which didn’t help, since the shaking of his head just scattered a couple of tears to his cheeks that had Cas freezing up completely.

“Cas,” Dean choked out, rolling his hips and making them both groan at the way Cas dragged inside him, “Don’t stop,”

“You are upset,” Cas whispered, shifting until he could trace the tears away with his fingers and kissed Dean softly. “What is it? Did I hurt you?”

Dean shook his head frantically again, scattering even more tears, and the thickness in his throat had him swallowing rapidly with Cas’ eyes darting down to his neck in concern.

“What is it, Dean?”

Dean leaned up, claiming a kiss, dragging his hands up Cas’ back and around his neck as he continued to rock up slowly, urging Cas not to stop.

“I—I don’t know. I… I’ve… I’ve missed you so much, Cas. Missed this … I… god I feel stupid for getting upset in the middle of it but… I missed you, Cas,” Dean told him through halted, broken words.

Cas smiled, feeling tears prick in his own eyes, and kissing Dean tenderly, rolling his hips until he was as deep in Dean as he could be, then pausing there, fixing Dean with a stare that told him not to look away.

“If you dare tell me you feel stupid, Dean—”

“I don’t feel stupid,” Dean cut him off rapidly, shaking his head, smoothing his hand down Cas’ sides and squeezing lightly. “I don’t. I feel… I feel… all kinds of things I’m probably gonna be embarrassed about saying out loud later,”

“Even just with me?” Cas asked, mouthing along Dean’s jaw and kissing his nose, smiling tearily himself.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Dean offered, groaning a little as Cas’ rocked himself almost all the way out of him and then slid languidly back in, grazing over his prostate and making him feel as though he was unraveling there on the sheets.

“So tell me,” Cas prompted, purposely and very slowly angling himself the very same way again, smiling at Dean’s shuddering response.

“I feel… I feel… home, Cas. Whole. All kindsa sappy stuff only you get to bring out of me, okay?” Dean gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh that Cas chased away with gentle kisses until it morphed into a low, contented sigh.

“I feel all of those things too, Dean,” Cas assured him, shifting again and moving Dean’s legs exactly how he wanted them before dropping down on to one elbow and sliding his hand under Dean’s head, gently cradling him. With his other hand he circled his palm over Dean’s cock head, sliding the precum there down and over and gripped him firmly, stroking in time to his own thrusts.

With smiles and soft kisses, Cas kept up that same, steady pace, with Dean answering in rolled hips and low moans, urging him on.

After losing themselves to this gentleness for a time, Cas’ arm began shaking with the effort of propping himself up. Another slow, loving kiss and Cas shifted again, regaining his balance as he kneeled up straighter. Cas grazed his palm over Dean’s head and slickened him down again, picking up the speed and grip he used on him and speeding up himself as well, pistoning in and out of Dean as he forced himself to wait, to hold back, feeling how close Dean was to coming.

Dean’s breaths sped up and shallowed; Cas could feel him tensing, knew the feel of his body bringing him closer, and closer, until Dean went completely rigid beneath him and let out a long, low moan that went straight to Cas’ own cock.

Cas cursed out, adjusting himself to rest on both hands now, and pounded into Dean just two, three more times before groaning out and falling heavily on Dean with a satisfied grunt, as he emptied himself inside him in long waves that felt as though they went on a lot longer than was possible.

Dean lifted and wrapped his legs around Cas, stroking grateful hands along Cas’ sides and peppering his skin with kisses anywhere he could reach. When they’d got their breath back, Cas pushed himself up just enough to kiss Dean long, and languid, then winced as he pulled out of him and kneeled between his legs, resting his hands on Dean’s splayed thighs.

Cas looked down at the pool of cum on Dean’s stomach and his own cum now leaking out of Dean’s hole and chuckled, shaking his head. “We are messy, Dean,” he said, kneeling his way off of the bed and bending to pick up his t-shirt to clean first Dean, then himself.

“Best kind of messy,” Dean told him with a smile on his face that was so warm, and loving, that Cas found himself laid back over him and kissing him before he even realized he had moved.

Sleepy kisses turned them on to their sides, with Dean propped up on an elbow cupping and angling Cas’ face up to him.

“You know,” he said, grinning with mischief, “You used to just… zap it away,”

Cas watched Dean’s lazy flicking of his fingers and took a second to realize what Dean was meaning, then laughed, shook his head and rolled on to his back, dragging Dean with him. “I am sorry I am no longer able to provide such… services,”

Dean snorted, leaning in to kiss him as though he hadn’t been doing that for what had to be more than an hour now. “No complaints, Cas. None at all.”

“I assume that made certain situations… easier,” Cas said, his smile widening automatically in reaction to Dean’s.

“Oh it did,” Dean chuckled; Cas felt a pang of loss that he couldn’t share that memory with Dean, but continued to smile, soft and sated enough in the moment for that feeling of loss to dissipate almost immediately.

“Will you tell me? Sometime? Not in this moment; I am quite tired,” Cas asked, sighing softly to himself and feeling a yawn bubbling up out of him.

Tender fingertips brushed along Cas’ jaw, making him drop his eyes closed in comfort and feel thoroughly content.

“‘Course, Cas. Anything you want. Anything at all,”

Sleepier still kisses were interrupted with whispered I love yous, and deep, contented sleep came to claim them once again.

* * *

“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Cas,”

Cas took a sip of coffee from the styrofoam cup in his hand and grimaced, before bumping his shoulder against Dean’s in reassurance. Dean’s arm snagged out immediately to wrap around Cas to keep him closer and Cas leaned, absently nuzzling against Dean’s neck as they both stared down at Sam.

The starkness of white against the stain of injuries that currently littered Sam’s face and arms was jarring; there was nothing right about seeing any of them in a hospital bed, but to see Sam’s huge frame look so small like this beneath the sheets was a jolt to the gut that had both of them silent with worry.

“It’s… we’re getting soft, Cas. We’re… it’s not… there’re too many near misses now. Stuff that used to just… roll off us… it’s not anymore,”

Cas nodded against him, silently longing to have his angel powers back, just for a minute, just to heal Sam once more.

But, he reminded himself, this time would turn into the next, and the next into another, and quite honestly, Cas didn’t like to think about where it would end.

“I always told him we’d… we’d go out in a blaze of glory,” Dean continued, oblivious to Cas’ internal debating. “But… I can’t, Cas. I know we should… ‘cos evil’s not going anywhere just ‘cos we’re getting older, but… I can’t… we can’t,”

Cas turned instantly at the catch in Dean’s voice, leaning away from him briefly to abandoned the frankly awful coffee on the closet beside Sam’s bed, then wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and pulled him close. Dean’s arms were up immediately to hold him, kissing the side of his head and swaying them a little as he did.

“Bobby’d probably give us hell for being quitters, but—”

“Bobby would be proud, Dean. Very, very proud of you both,” Cas argued, glancing up to see a slight brightness in Dean’s eyes that told him of his turmoil.

“I don’t know,”

“I do. He would,” Cas insisted again, nudging against Dean so he would be forced to look him in the eye. “You and Sam. You have given more than most. You have given your lives, Dean, countless times. Nobody will judge you for wanting to stop. Sam was right, this lifestyle isn’t sustainable for you. Not for a human body. Not without—”

And Dean was angling his head down, kissing him softly and shaking his head, smiling. “Badass angels covering our asses every time we screwed up?”

The look Cas gave him back was mixed; he wanted to smile because Dean was trying to lift their moods, but the strange guilt he felt at not being able to heal them anymore always hit home in moments like this. Not that he’d really have it any other way, even if he could.

“This is the perfect opportunity for me to make a crass comment about me being the one to ‘watch your ass’ anyway, isn’t it,” Cas said drily, happy to see that his words widened the smile on Dean’s face.

With a quick glance down at Sam as though to check he wasn’t listening, Dean brought his hands up to cradle Cas’ face and whispered, “You do all kinds of things to my ass, Cas. Don’t limit it to just watching,”

Cas laughed, loud and embarrassed, also glancing around at Sam as though Dean’s words might have woken him up. That Sam was still completely prone sobered him slightly, but he looked back to Dean with a smile anyway, relieved to see Dean relaxing a little.

“He is going to be okay, Dean. We read the charts,” Cas reminded him softly, and Dean’s face grew serious again as he nodded in reply.

“I know. Severe blow to the head, monitoring, yadda yadda yadda. I just… I hate seeing him like this, you know?”

Cas turned back and looked at Sam once more, sighing. “As do I, Dean.”

"When he’s awake, and we’re… we’re back at the bunker. This is it, Cas. I’m serious. I’m… I’m not risking him again. Not risking any of us. We’re done,”

Dean’s voice was so firm, so earnest, and so laced with fear for them all, that Cas couldn’t help thinking that this really might be it this time. This time it might stick, they might give up hunting for good. This time might be the one all of their talks of the future might stand a chance of actually happening.

A soft thrill of excitement rushed through Cas then at the thought, and even with Sam unconscious to their side, Cas allowed himself to look forward at what might be to come for them all.

* * *

 

  
  



	4. Epilogue

“Yes, ma’am. I can vouch for Agent Johnson. He’s one of our best; but you be sure to let me know if you need anything else from me. Okay. Thank you. Yes. Goodbye,”

Cas watched Dean struggling to put down the oven tray he’d had in his hands whilst with the phone tucked into his neck, and grinned.

“Multitasking?”

Dean mumbled incoherently which made Cas smile all over again. “You could help,”

Instantly Cas was to his feet, stretching, knowing full well that Dean’s eyes were on him as he did. He paced towards Dean slowly with an intent look on his face, snagged the phone away from him and replacing it back into the cradle labeled _FBI_.

“I seem to remember _you_ saying it was Sam’s turn to man these phones,”

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean protested, though sighing in agreement, blowing on his fingers at the heat from the food he’d just slid down on a plate. “He’s really into this one. Ellen. Eileen. Ola. Something like that,”

Cas rolled his eyes and stepped up behind Dean, nuzzling into his shoulder and wrapping his arms firmly around his waist. “Firstly. Do not pretend to have so little interest in this woman that Sam is spending time with that you cannot remember her name. It is Eileen. Sam has told us about her, multiple times,”

“Swear he’s only into her ‘cos she’s got this mountain of a dog,” Dean mumbled, continuing to prepare their lunch as Cas continued to press kisses across his shoulders.

“That you know about this dog proves that you _are_ interested in hearing more about her,” Cas pointed out, earning himself an incoherent grumble in response.

“Secondly,” Cas added, splaying a hand over Dean’s stomach, “You make it sound as though Sam has dated multiple women, when to date Eileen is only his third since we left the bunker,”

Dean dropped his head back against Cas’ with a defeated sigh, bringing up his hand to cover Cas’. “Yeah, alright, whatever. Just pointing out why we’ve got the phones this weekend—again—‘cos Sam’s got conjugal visits,”

“For which crime is Eileen imprisoned?”

“... she’s… she’s not in _prison_ , Cas—”

“Then it is not a conjugal visit, Dean,”

“Smartass,” Dean mumbled, spinning in Cas’ arms and surprising him with a kiss. Cas let out a burst of laughter but pressed eagerly himself back against Dean with a grin of smugness until Dean’s back hit the counter’s edge.

“You like my smart ass,”

“Oh I do,” Dean agreed, sliding his hands down Cas’ back and cupping his ass to pull them closer together as though to demonstrate his point.

“I am quite fond of yours too, Dean,” Cas told him solemnly, grinning at the snort escaping from Dean in response.

“‘S why you dragged me down the aisle, right?” Dean said, ducking slightly to kiss him before pulling away and putting the last of their lunch together. Cas hummed in agreement and sighed out a lengthy, contented sigh.

Sometimes, of course when Dean wasn’t looking, Cas inspected his wedding ring as though he really couldn’t believe it was there on his finger. Sometimes he checked Dean’s was still there too, gently sliding his fingers over its surface as Dean mumbled at the movement in his sleep, a sense of relief washing over Cas that allowed him to lay his head back down and sleep himself.

To say it had been a long road for them to get where they were would be an understatement; there had been so many problems they had faced, both together and separately over the years, that on occasion Cas still woke expecting to find his good luck at having Dean was nothing but a very cruel, overly vivid dream.

They had left the bunker more than two years ago now, packing up their surprisingly large amount of belongings and driving across town to a fixer-upper of a house that they’d got incredibly cheap.

It had taken no time at all to make the place feel like home, but Dean about six months to deal with all of the repairs that needed doing in order for it to be a fully functioning property. During that time, Sam had moved into an apartment block a couple of minutes away from them, Cas had learned the art of plastering and decorating, and the three of them had precariously stepped away from the life of hunting that was really all they had ever known.

Judging from the phone call Dean had just had, they would never be severed from it entirely, however.

The final decision to give up hunting had been immediate, with Sam’s hospital visit being the very final straw, but the process of letting go had not. Sam and Dean went on three further hunts before finally giving up for good, though neither voiced it out loud that the last hunt was, in fact, their last; and as the network of hunters was remapped, Sam and Dean had slipped logically and easily into the role of Bobby.

Cas smiled when he thought of how all the hunters he had ever met still called the role _Bobby’s role_.

They still went back to the bunker from time to time to check facts or pick through tomes for research, but they had not spent more than a couple of hours there each visit since they had officially left.

Cas had asked Dean to marry him as soon as they had gotten Sam home from the hospital. Cas knew Dean would have been happy enough to put a ring on his finger and call himself married and that be the end of it; no fuss, no ceremony, nothing difficult at all. But Dean knew _Cas_ ; at that time Cas very much needed to be making new memories with Dean, so get married is what they did. Small, intimate, naturally with forged documentation and fraudulently funded, but a wedding nonetheless.

Cas still felt a thrill whenever he had to sign something with the name _Winchester_.

“‘Sides. You moaning about me working, Cas? When you left me alone in bed this morning so you could _write_?” Dean grumbled, bringing Cas back to the moment and making him grin all over again.

“You know I have a deadline to meet, Dean,” Cas retorted, loosening his grip on Dean and shifting around to pick up the two plates Dean had loaded up, walking them over to the table.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it. Can’t help know it being married to a guy with like, _followers_ and _fans_ and stuff,” Dean agreed, walking over to the table himself with a bowl of salad that Cas grinned at seeing.

“What? I like the dressing,” Dean protested, taking in the look on Cas’ face.

Cas turned away so Dean wouldn’t see the mirth on his face, and to stop himself from commenting about how Sam would react to knowing this was the third day in a row Dean had made a lunch that involved salad. By choice. With no prompting whatsoever.

“And I do not know about _fans_ and _followers_ , Dean,”

Dean snorted, taking the glasses from Cas’ hands and gesturing for him to sit as he took drinks from the fridge. “I’ve seen your Twitter, Cas. I _follow_ your Twitter. You got both,”

“Technically that is not me, either, Dean, it is merely a crafted… persona,”

“Whatever, Cas. Imma be proud of you and tease you about it however you wanna paint this,” Dean told him with a huge grin on his face that spoke of that pride and teasing all in one expression.

With a slight humph of amused embarrassment, Cas waited for Dean to sit down at the table himself and then looked down at their meal.

“Thank you for lunch, this looks delicious,”

“Gotta eat,” Dean shrugged, but Cas had long come to recognize that answer as Dean’s very own _you’re welcome_ , and smiled.

As they began eating, the only noises to hear in their kitchen were their enjoyment of their meals and the occasional shifting in their seats, leaving Cas’ mind to wander again and think of what he was working on.

Cas had started writing on that tablet Sam had given him after he’d first fallen. Snapshots of him trying to get his memories back, half-records of battles he’d fought in, idle commenting on the world he saw around him and was getting to know all over again from an entirely new perspective.

Dean had stumbled across it by accident months later when absently playing with the tablet whilst Cas had been in the shower; Cas had walked back into the room to find Dean thoroughly engrossed and only looking up at him when he sank down on the bed beside him.

“Cas,” Dean had said, his voice full of surprise, and that wonder Cas heard when he told Dean stories of his past, “This is awesome. You gotta write more,”

And so, he had.

Cas published two short stories online for a small publishing house before being offered a more serious contract for more, and while there was never any intention for him to write anything as all-encompassing as an actual book, the demand for his work kept him busy enough to earn what Dean referred to as _honest_ _money_.

The story he was currently working on would sound so far fetched that no reader would ever believe it to be a possibility, Cas thought, smiling to himself as an idle memory of Dean mumbling about _Chuck_ and _following in your dad’s footsteps_ came back to him out of nowhere.

“What’re you grinning at?” Dean interrupted his thoughts, clearly so in tune to Cas that he couldn’t even have a private smile without him noticing.

“Work. You. Nothing in particular,”

Dean hummed in response as though not entirely believing Cas’ words but willing to let the subject drop.

“So. Sam’s actually talking about having this _Eileen_ over to us for dinner some time,” Dean said in a tone full of amusement and tease as he precariously shifted over the homemade pizza on his plate to make room for the salad.

Cas watched the entire thing desperately fighting back a smile. “That will be nice,”

“He’s… he’s _really_ into her,” Dean said with a doubtful, curious frown. “I’ve… I mean I never really got to know Jess, or… or anyone he—”

“Then this will be good. For both of you,” Cas insisted.

“It will,” Dean nodded, but Cas could see the hesitance there on Dean’s face very clearly.

“But?” He prompted, knowing Dean would need it.

“I… I’m just… I don’t know, man. She’s… she—what if I mess up?”

Cas shook his head to show he didn’t understand. “Why would you mess up?”

“‘Cos,” Dean said, taking a bite of food and swallowing before answering. “I know she lip reads, but… what if I speak too fast, or—or forget, or—”

“She is deaf, Dean. Not a ‘delicate flower’, as you would term it,” Cas told him, feeling that familiar sense of disapproval he had every time Dean doubted himself. Which thankfully was not as often as it once had been. “I am sure she will simply ask you to slow down if she needs you to,”

“Sam’s talking about taking classes,” Dean continued, that frown deepening a little.

“For ASL?” Cas asked, watching him.

“Yeah. I—” and now Dean was cuffing the back of his neck in that embarrassed way that after all this time, Cas still felt a surge of affection at seeing. “I was thinking maybe- maybe you could show me a couple ‘things before we have her over—not that we’ve like, set a date for it or anything. And… and if things work out with them then… maybe I should go to class with him,”

Cas beamed back at him with a surge of pride, immediately making a series of gestures with his hands that Dean watched with an expression of fearful doubt.

“Alright, smartass, what was that?”

“It was _of course I will teach you, Dean, you are very good with your hands, I foresee no difficulty with you learning,_ ”

Dean snorted into his glass and shook his head, grinning hard. “And you say I cheapen every moment,”

“I do. And you do,” Cas confirmed, his answering grin just as wide.

For a moment they did nothing but grin back at each other, and Cas relished in it, thankful as he would never fail to be thankful, that they had this between them.

“Did you agree a timescale for the Chevrolet?” Cas asked him then, refilling their glasses absently.

Dean nodded, taking up another bite of food. “Guy’s bringing it over Monday. We’re gonna go over what’s needed, figure out what he wants. Say’s money’s no option and he’ll leave it in my hands. He’s not even in any hurry; told me to take my time since he’s got his company car to get around in and doesn’t _need_ it need it for a few months,”

“That makes things easier. And more interesting for you,” Cas told him, his own voice full of quiet pride as Dean shrugged.

Somehow, and Cas really couldn’t pinpoint the how, or when, Dean had begun to restore classic cars. He’d taken one from the bunker as a project to keep his hands busy when he’d finished on the house, not sure what else to do with his time now that he had so much of it.

That car had been a success, and intended to be a one-off. But Cas returned from their local library one day to Dean taking details down over the phone for another. And a week later Cas unloaded bags of groceries as quietly as possible, listening as Dean spoke on the phone again about a third, and it had gotten to the point for Cas that it was odd not to find their garage full of someone else’s car, as well as the Impala. Which still received the same loving attention as always, no matter what Dean was working on.

Somewhere else along the line, Dean had also started picking up some online classes. He told Cas that it was just for something to do, maybe a way to figure out what he could do in terms of work when he couldn’t fix cars anymore. But Cas always watched the intent way Dean studied, saw the concentration and enjoyment there on Dean’s face, and quietly reminded himself that Dean had always been much smarter than he ever gave himself credit for.

“How about you and me get away in a couple weeks when I’ve got a schedule agreed for the car? Take a drive up the coast, see where we end up? I promise we’ll find decent wifi wherever we stop so you can answer your _fanmail_ ,” Dean said, ending his question with a singsong voice that had Cas laughing all over again.

“It was one email, Dean. One,” Cas corrected, thoroughly amused by Dean’s inability to let it go.

“Yeah. One email and about a million Tweets, Cas,” Dean continued, smirking.

“It is probably in the low hundreds, Dean. Nowhere near a million,” Cas pointed out, unable to stop himself grinning at Dean’s raucous laughter.

“And I check every damn one of ‘em. Make sure no one’s giving you any hassle,”

“What are you going to do, track them down through their internet provider one by one?” Cas shook his head, still laughing as he gathered their empty plates and cutlery together.

“I might,” Dean admitted, grabbing what Cas couldn’t carry and heading over to the sink. “Quit changing the subject anyway. You up for a roadtrip or what?”

“That is a pointless question. Of course,” Cas told him firmly, beginning to do the dishes and humming in approval when Dean’s hands slid around his waist, pulling Cas flush back against Dean’s chest.

“Good. Been a while,” Dean mumbled into his shoulder, and kissing his neck. Cas immediately tipped his head to the side to encourage Dean to continue.

“Almost three months,” Cas agreed.

“Sam’ll be finished up by then,” Dean added, and Cas nodded, smiling again.

“I am very proud of him,”

“You and me both,” Dean said with another kiss, lower this time, nosing down the neck of Cas’ t-shirt. “Don’t tell him that though. His head’ll swell even more, and—”

“I am sure he already knows,” Cas countered, giving a plate a final rinse and stacking it on the side.

Dean gave a noncommittal hum and snagged up a towel before Cas could reach for it, drying Cas’ hands for him and then sneaking his hands up and under Cas’ t-shirt. Cas closed his eyes, let his head fall back on to Dean’s shoulder, feeling utterly at peace in the stillness of their somewhat quiet Saturday afternoon.

Sam, for reasons Dean still pretended not to understand, had decided that he wanted to become a college professor. And not only that, he wanted to do it at least semi-legally, going back to school himself to earn the necessary qualifications. True to form, Sam was sailing through his classes with ease, seemed to constantly have his nose in a book—nothing much had changed in that respect—and still looked at Dean with that earnest _I’m about to lecture you_ expression whenever Dean made disparaging comments about at least one of them being smart.

Cas loved Sam for that.

When Cas had privately told Dean that he was surprised Sam hadn’t gone back into studying for the law career he had wanted when he was younger, Dean had shrugged, unconcerned, telling him it was simple.

 _“Can’t break the law all this long while and not find fault with it, Cas,”_ Dean had told him, casually and as though it made perfect sense to him. _“‘Sides. Sam’s good with people. And books. And… you know. Learning and stuff. He already knows this stuff. He’ll be a natural,”_

The look of eagerness Sam got when talking about his classes, and pedagogy, and how much he was looking forward to turning learning into something fun, had Cas agreeing with Dean’s belief entirely.

“So. We wait for Sam to do this final exam he’s working himself up over—that he’s managed to take a break away from studying for with _Eileen_ , but not _us_ this weekend,” Dean added, a slight indignance in his voice that had Cas fighting back the urge to laugh yet again.

“And you and me’ll go somewhere,” Dean finished, dropping his hands to Cas’ waist and slowly turning him, pressing him back up against the kitchen counter.

Cas stretched against him, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and nodding at him knowingly.

“It does not mean that Sam enjoys your—our company any less, Dean,” Cas told him gently; he would never say out loud how much Dean _needed_ Sam around him, because Dean would make grumbling noises about not being co-dependent and probably get into a grump about it. Despite how true it might be.

“I know,” Dean agreed with a dejected sigh. “I just… you know,”

Cas nodded, wrapping his arms around Dean a little tighter and pulling him into a hug. “I do,”

Dean leaned back against Cas then giving a low, contented hum, and bent to mouth along his neck. “So. How much longer you need to work? I gotta a couple assignments I need to look at ‘for the end of the day,”

Cas slid his hands into Dean’s jean pockets and tugged hard, shifting his head to chase Dean’s mouth with a thorough kiss that left Dean gasping in surprised delight.

“I believe a couple more hours will be sufficient. Then I am all yours,” Cas told him with a very deliberate look of intent that had Dean swallowing and smirking at all at once.

“Thought you were ‘all mine’ all the time, Cas, huh?” Dean teased, steadying his hands on Cas’ hips and rocking against him softly.

“When have I not been?” Cas replied, tilting his head back to invite another kiss that Dean leaned into instantly.

“Dunno, Cas. You ‘n me were pretty dumb for a while,” Dean mumbled against Cas’ lips; Cas nodded briefly in agreement, splaying his hands under Dean’s t-shirt briefly before shifting until he could wedge a hand between them.

Dean dropped his head onto Cas’ shoulder with a soft groan as Cas traced the length of him through his jeans with his thumb.

“Then we will simply have to keep making up for lost time, Dean,” Cas told him, groaning a little himself at how instantly Dean hardened at his touch and pressed into him.

“Never gonna be enough time for that,” Dean mumbled into his neck half-heartedly.

“Then we can enjoy _trying_ to,” Cas amended, sucking in a breath as Dean bit down lightly on his neck.

Instantly Dean lifted his head, teased Cas’ mouth open with his own and kissed him hard, and dirty, all the while rocking insistently against him.

This, Cas thought to himself, would never, ever become tiring to him. Even after everything they had been through together, and even after living together for so long, they were still very much unable to keep their hands off of one another in one way or another at any given moment. It was a constant reminder to Cas of how very well they just _fit_.

They had happily lost hours to just this; pressed together up against a surface, be it hard or smooth, clothed or otherwise, gentle or not so gentle. And _lost_ wasn’t really the right word either, Cas reminded himself, smiling as their kiss grew more gentle and he could feel Dean’s mouth curving up in a smile against his.

Not _lost_ , Cas repeated to himself with a surge of happiness. Because being with Dean always made him feel as though he had been _found_. And with that thought he wrapped himself a little tighter around Dean, leaning against him.

Dean was the one to pull away first; the smile he gave Cas when he did was full of so much love, that Cas’ heart thudded and he felt his throat catch.

Dean leaned in for a final kiss, threading their fingers together then taking a step back, sliding his fingertips across Cas’ palm as they finally parted, and winking at him as he turned and left the room.

Cas wrapped his hands around the edge of the counter and slumped a little, looking down at his body’s obvious reaction to Dean and chuckling to himself. He took a moment to breathe deep, breathe sense back in when Dean had clearly kissed all of it out of him, and then forced his mind back to think about working.

For another second Cas closed his eyes, then pushed himself away from the counter and collected his laptop. He smiled again when he saw just a glimpse of Dean’s back as he headed out to their small porch overlooking their garden, and found himself watching as Dean settled himself down to work.

Cas had insisted on moving as many of his plants and flowers from the bunker garden as was possible, so he could watch them grow from their kitchen window and add even more to them. The garden, Dean told him from the moment they moved in, was entirely his to do with whatever he wished, and now it was a bright, well-maintained oasis attracting bees and butterflies that hovered over flowers in the soft breeze of summer and somehow added to the overall sense of peace Cas found just from being in the space.

In silence Cas followed him, quietly shutting the door and lowering himself into the chair beside Dean, stretching his legs out and up on to a stool in a perfect mirror. With a quick glance out over the garden, Cas opened up his laptop, finding the place where he had left off earlier and pausing his fingers over the keyboard as he found the words he wanted to write.

A soft kiss to his shoulder had Cas grinning all over again. Cas turned slightly to the side to watch Dean as he worked, saw the curve of a smile on his lips, sent a silent _thank you_ up into the air for everything that he had in his life, and began to type.

  
  



End file.
